


turn back now

by aunt_zelda



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Quests, Rescue, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28235169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: Naomi would chalk it up to trauma and grief, except that other things start happening. Persistent damp fog around her bathroom mirror long after she’s showered. A blanket draped over her after one of her many afternoon depression naps. Rain falling in her kitchen from nowhere. Muddy footprints on her floor that vanish in sunlight. Her engagement ring throbbing like a heartbeat.
Relationships: Naomi Herne/Evan Lukas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2020





	turn back now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aibari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibari/gifts).



> Was taken by your prompt "I would love to see a happy ending for them somehow - Naomi Hearne tam lins and or goes on a weird underworld quest to get Evan back or there's a haunting-turned-ghost-ressurection or something." Wanted to write you a treat.

Naomi goes back to the Institute and demands the rock be returned to her. She knows that bastard with his tape recorder didn’t believe her, probably kept the rock for a paperweight to have a good laugh, so she wants it back. 

With surprisingly little fuss the rock is returned to her hands. It’s cold, like metal on a winter day. She almost recoils from it despite having asked for its return. 

She keeps the rock on her bedside table. For a few days nothing happens at all. She gets up, tries to remember what life was like before Evan, and goes to sleep. 

Then she begins to dream. 

The dreams are about Evan. Evan screaming, Evan crying, Evan trapped in a coffin and banging helplessly on the lid, Evan wandering an endless rainy moor, Evan leaning against a cracked tombstone with a missing piece. 

Naomi would chalk it up to trauma and grief, except that other things start happening. Persistent damp fog around her bathroom mirror long after she’s showered. A blanket draped over her after one of her many afternoon depression naps. Rain falling in her kitchen from nowhere. Muddy footprints on her floor that vanish in sunlight. Her engagement ring throbbing like a heartbeat. 

Clad in her warmest coat and armed with a kitchen knife, a shovel, and a backpack containing rope and a blanket, Naomi returns to Moorland House. Or rather, to the family cemetery. She wouldn’t enter that house even armed with guns. 

A groundskeeper tries to stop her at the gate. “Miss, turn back now,” he warns. 

“I refuse.” Naomi storms past him and doesn’t look back. 

She finds Evan’s grave and starts to dig. She keeps her eyes down until she feels the change. 

Upon looking up, the place she came from is gone, and fog is roiling around her. The grave beneath her is empty of course. Naomi ties a length of rope around the tombstone and holds the free end. 

“Evan?” she calls out. Her voice is swallowed up by the heavy fog. 

She goes in search of the church and finds it, trailing the rope behind herself. This time there’s a man at the door. He’s one of the family members from the funeral, a broad-shouldered man with a wide smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. 

“Really my dear, turn back now. This is a dangerous place.” His tone reminds Naomi of an especially handsy manager she worked for briefly in her youth. 

“No. I won’t go back without him.”

The man shrugs and spreads his arms wide. “Suit yourself.” 

She shifts past him and opens the door. 

Evan is in the distance, wandering aimlessly. 

Naomi walks through the door, feeling a chill settle into her bones. Her steps become heavy, languid, and her mind grows fuzzy and confused. Where is she going? Shouldn’t she sit down for a while? 

Evan’s hand grasps hers. 

He’s so cold the temperature feels searing. Naomi cries out but almost no sound reaches her ears. It’s like when she was a child and sank to the bottom of the pool, hearing distant noises far above through the water.

Together they walk backwards, following the rope, until they reach the door. 

The cold pulls at them, especially Evan. Naomi heaves him through and they collapse on the sodden earth, panting and clinging to each other. 

“We’re not out yet,” Evan whimpers. “Naomi, nobody ever escapes this place. You shouldn’t have come for me.”

“But I did. And we’re getting back.” 

Naomi leads him to the grave. Evan shudders at the sight, but dutifully climbs into the pit with her. 

“Now what?” Evan’s gripping her hand so tightly Naomi thinks she might bruise. 

“I don’t know.” Naomi admits. She places the rock back on the tombstone, but nothing happens. 

Evan looks close to despairing. Naomi can feel the cold still, seeping out from him. It wants him back. It wants her now too. 

Naomi leans in and kisses Evan, winding her arms around him. 

When they break apart they’re back in the world she knows, huddled over a fresh grave. 

Naomi unties the rope and drapes the blanket around Evan. She bundles him into her car and drives away from the estate without a backwards glance.


End file.
